


Talking in Bed

by lady_wordsmith



Series: Fire, Faith, and Love (Matt Murdock/Reader) [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Reader-Insert, Relationship Discussions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6351661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_wordsmith/pseuds/lady_wordsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Matt talk in bed one night, about family and the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking in Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Translations and notes at the end as always.

“Would your father have liked me?” you ask Matt as the two of you lay in Matt’s bed after you’ve patched him up. It wasn’t a bad night, but having to help him sometimes gets you thinking.

 “Would your family have liked me?” he responds back.

“We’d say don’t answer a question with a question like a damn rabbi.” You say, laughing a little.

Matt’s quiet for a long time.

 “Your brother hates me.” He says finally.

“My brother hates you because he’s an absolute **fuckwhistle**. Besides, I barely talked to him before I dated you unless it was to translate something. Almost cut him out entirely once. Before you. Long before you.” Matt smiles at the fuckwhistle thing but he’s serious again when you bring up the whole disowning thing.

“Are you ever going to tell me that story? The whole story, I mean.” He asks.

“I don’t know. I tell you bits and pieces. Maybe I will, one day.” **When it doesn’t hurt so much** , you think. **When it doesn’t feel like I’m being punched in the stomach**.

“I mean, I think I get what it’s about, but I don’t want to ask you and be wrong.” He tells you.

“If you were wrong, I would tell you. You’d know if I lied about you being right.” You say.

“It’s something to do with his not observing proper rituals about something, I remember you saying that after that breakfast we had with Karen and Foggy.” Matt says. “You’re an observant Jew but not overly so, so whatever he’s done must have been really big. Your sister-in-law’s Jewish, so he didn’t marry outside the faith-“

“Not that I, of all people, would care.” You remind him.

“True.” Matt smiles at you. “Well, whatever it is, it’s obviously a large emotional wound, and I’m not going to press.”

“Thank you.” You tell him. “Especially since you’re still avoiding my question.”

“There was a question?” Matt jokes, and you nudge him playfully with your shoulder.

You don’t know which one of you reached for the other’s hand. It’s comforting as always, but you look at your intertwined hands and you’re thinking about the intertwining of lives, of families. You and Matt don’t have that, not anymore, at least not in the traditional sense. You’re two people alone in the world, more or less, who’ve found each other.

Sometimes thinking like that hurts.

“Would your father have liked me?” you ask again.

Matt seems thoughtful, weighing the question in his head.

“I’m not sure. I’d like to think that he would.” He admits, looking down at where your hand is tangled in his. “He would have liked the fact you’re intelligent. Always wanted me to hit the books, it wouldn’t surprise me if he would have wanted me being with a smart woman.”

“I’m not **that** intelligent.” You protest.

“ **How** many languages do you know?” Matt shoots back with a smile.

“Everyone in New York City knows a bit of Yiddish.” You try to argue, but you’re smiling now, too.

“Does everyone in the city also know German, and Czech, and Russian? That’s all of them besides English, right?” Matt asks you, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“You forgot Hebrew, but I don’t know enough of that to be fluent. Just some prayers, really.” That’s only a little lie; you know more than a few. Matt’s willing to let you slide on that lie, though.

“See? You’re smart. Most people can barely speak one language.” Matt says, raising his head back up.

“Okay, so he would have liked the fact I speak several languages. How would he have taken the whole Jewish thing?”

Matt has an odd look on his face. Thinking mixed with nostalgia. It makes you both happy and aches at the same time and you briefly have a thought on the complexity of emotions that Matt brings out in you. You wonder if you inspire the same sort of thought in him.

“He would have been respectful of it. He already knew some things about it, I think. Probably would have asked you questions about the confusing stuff.” Matt tells you.

“ **I** don’t even understand all the stuff. I would have made a lousy tutor in that regard.” You tell him, and your mind’s on sitting _shiva_ and _kaddish_ and questions Rabbi Blumenthal answered with questions.

“Still, he would have respected your attempts to answer.” Matt rests his forehead against yours. “He wouldn’t have cared too much about it, sweetheart. Some questions about marriage and how we intend to raise our hypothetical children, maybe.”

“Oh.” That’s all you can say to that, those topics that neither one of you have brought up before. “I’m sorry for asking about this if it bothers you, Matt.”

Matt raises his head from yours, giving your forehead a quick kiss.

“No, it doesn’t. I **like** that you ask questions like this, sweetheart. Makes me think, and maybe hope a little.”

“Hope?” you ask.

“Hope that maybe you’ll stick around a while. That you’ll want to know everything and maybe still stay afterwards.”

“All of you,” you tell him, punctuating your words with kisses. “Even the parts you try and hide. The parts you keep close to the vest.”

The two of you don’t speak for a while after that. It’s after, lying together in contented silence that you bring the topic back up.

“Tell me about your dad.” You say.

“Again?” he asks, turning his head in the direction of your voice. “We went over this. Twenty minutes ago, in fact.”

“No, I asked if your dad would have liked me. Now I’m asking you to tell me about him.” You say with a smile. “And not the boxing stuff either, Matt. Tell me about him, as a person.”

Matt sighs and nods his head, but doesn’t speak. You wonder if perhaps he’s fallen asleep when he finally starts speaking.

“He wanted me to have the world, everything he didn’t have when he was my age. He was a simple man, but he wanted more for me. He threw fights sometimes, for the money. But not the last one. He wanted me to hear the crowd cheering.” You look at Matt’s face, but he’s cool and calm while recounting this. “I found him, after.”

“Oh, Matt…” you’re uncertain what to say. Your experiences with family and death have been entirely different. You can’t imagine how Matt must have felt.

“But you know… Everything he did, he did it because of me. My mom ran out on us before I even knew her. He was all I had. Everything I am is because of him. I get hit, I get up, every time, and that’s because of him.”

Your hands are clasped together again. Matt is gripping yours tightly, not so tightly it hurts but tight enough.

“Your dad sounds like he was a good man. I shouldn’t be surprised, though.” You say, which makes Matt look in your direction curiously. “You’re a good man, Matt. You had to get it from somewhere.”

“Are we? Good men, I mean. My dad and I.” Matt looks away from you, his eyes at the ceiling. “We’ve both had to do things less than moral for reasons that may not be as altruistic as we think.”

For a second, you think it’s like one of _Opa_ and _Oma_ ’s debates again, and you would rather be spit-roasted than go through that kind of ridiculousness again.

“Oh, don’t start that.” You tell him, only a little angry. “Your father did what he had to do to make sure you, his son, were provided for. He went above and beyond that, really. A lot of parents don’t do the bare minimum, and you know it. As for you-“

You’re sitting up now, and Matt follows you, his face confused.

“You do what you can for this city. You do more than that. So it’s a little less than legal. Most people would never take that kind of stand. Do I need to start plucking tales from my family tree for you as an example?”

“Sweetheart-“

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Godwin’s law. Original point that you’re a good man still stands.”

He looks both confused and amused at that, but nods his head.

“ Godwin’s law?” he asks.

“More like Godwin’s rule of Nazi analogies. Not important.” You say, shaking your head. “You’re a good man, Matt. Your father was, too, from the sounds of it. People do things that may not be moral or legal because of loads of reasons, but you and your dad did things for the right reasons. Your father didn’t want you to suffer the way he did, and you want to help people when no one else can. Other people may not think so, but I think you do the right thing.”

Matt nods again.

“I wish I could be that sure.” He tells you. “I always want to do more.”

“The sign of a good person. Good people always wish they had done more.” You tell him.

There’s a long pause. Then Matt looks in your direction with a vaguely impish smile.

“Oskar Schindler didn’t really have that breakdown like in the movie, you know. He never had that gold badge in the first place, and they were really just made of gold-plated brass, besides. He couldn’t have saved anyone by selling it.” He tells you.

You look at him incredulously. “First off, you just Godwinned and lost the argument, and you didn’t even have to because _Schindler’s List_ has nothing to do with this. Second off, that was in Poland and my family’s mostly German, you gigantic **ass**. Third, fuck you, you know that that movie’s a masterpiece and Liam Neeson killed that scene.” You say, reaching over and giving him playful hits to punctuate your points. Matt laughs and grabs your fists.

“Not arguing the last two because you **clearly** know better-“

“Damn right I do.”

“But I don’t think I lost the argument.” You’re on top of Matt now, your fists still in his hands.

“You Godwinned, though. Or maybe you did a Reverse Godwin, I’m not sure. But you invoked some sort of Nazi analogy, and therefore lost the argument.” You tell him, leaning in for a kiss.

“Hmm.” You pull away, but Matt reaches over and pulls you back in. After you finally separate, he smiles. “I should lose more often.”

“No, then I’ll get a massive superiority complex. Can’t have that.” You tell him as the two of you settle back and lie beside one another.

“That would be **terrible**.” Matt agrees, shifting so that he’s lying on his side, facing you. “So. Earlier. I mentioned something and you didn’t really react.”

You shift to face Matt. He moves to take your hand, but settles on idly letting his fingers trace the outlines of your hand. He has a serious look on his face.

“What?” you ask. You already know, but you’d prefer to ignore it, really. You and Matt have only been back together for about four or five months now. You’ve known him all together for about a year and a half, and spent most of that time pining after him and trying not to, for various reasons. Marriage and children? You wouldn’t even know how to bring that up. You never really wanted to discuss that with anyone before, and while everything was different with Matt, you were uncertain about the future in general. Sometimes you felt like you had no idea the life you wanted to lead, and adding in Matt’s activities as a vigilante did make things more complicated, even if you were supportive of it.

“Marriage. Children.” He reminds you. You can’t read the look on his face.

“I… I don’t know, Matt.” You confess. “I mean… You’re the first person I’ve ever really fell for, you know? I’d never thought about marriage and children seriously, even though they kind of drill that sort of thing in your head from when you’re very young, **especially** if you’re Jewish. I could tell you stories about that, I’m not kidding.”

You pause and try to read Matt’s expression again. It’s no clearer. He motions for you to continue.

“Um. Right. So, I’ve never really thought about it. And then I met you, and well, you just completely turned everything upside down.”

“I never apologized for that.” He says suddenly, and you look at him confused before you realize what he’s talking about.

“Okay, you know what? Let’s cover all our bases here: Prague wasn’t a breakup, you had relatively valid reasons for the **actual** breakup and we ironed most of that shit out, and my brother is a fuckwhistle I would have eventually disowned anyway even if you hadn’t shown up in my life. I think that about covers it.” You say, closing your eyes.

“I suppose it does. Continue.” Matt tells you, and you bump your hand against his and let him go back to tracing your hand with his fingertips before you speak.

“So. Where was I? We met, and you changed everything for me. I thought you were attractive, but I could barely stand you at first because you were so damned… well, you. Or that weird façade you put up for the world. You piss people off, you know.”

“I’ve been told.” Matt says with a smile, and you half-heartedly slap his hand away from yours in faux-irritation and pretend not to notice when he takes your hand again.

“Matt, talking here. Anyway. I didn’t expect to fall for you, and then all this stuff just happens. Like, the Daredevil thing, yeah, big stuff. But like, the more mundane stuff, too. You know, even when I dated guys who weren’t Jewish, they generally weren’t even religious at all. I’ve never dated a Catholic. Especially one so faithful. Please be a little quieter when you’re getting ready for Mass, please. Some of us like to sleep in.”

Matt laughs at that. “I’ll try.” He tells you, finally taking your hand in his completely. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it.

“Thank you. I’ll return the favor by not staying so late after temple services, in case you need me after a difficult night of catching the bad guys.”

“They’re your religious community-“

“And they’ll survive if I don’t get coffee with them after temple. Promise.”

“All right. But now you’re the one stalling.”

You sigh and move closer to Matt. He understands immediately, opening his arms to let you get close and lay your head on his chest before wrapping his arms around you. He holds you just the way you want to be held, not too tightly or too firmly.

“I guess I am.” You say. “I’m sorry, I just… I love you, Matt. That’s all I know right now. Anything else… I’m still getting used to the idea of being with someone in general, never mind all the other stuff.”

Matt doesn’t respond, and you panic, thinking you’ve upset him.

“That’s not a ‘no,’ Matt. I’m not saying ‘no’ to all of that. I’m just saying that I want to enjoy my time with you for a while and figure out how-“

He cuts you off by pulling you up for a kiss. When you pull away, he smiles at you.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. I understand. Really.” Matt tells you. “I just-I wanted to know that it wasn’t something that was a deal breaker for you.”

“Marriage and children?” you ask.

“Marriage and children with someone of a different faith.” He says, and for the first time, you see that Matt looks a little worried, like he’s scared that you’re going to tell him that it won’t work, that you’re sorry and it’s been good but you have to leave and find someone of your own faith because being both a Catholic and a vigilante is just too much. You lay your head back on his chest and listen to his heart for a moment before speaking.

“That doesn’t matter to me. I love you, Matt, and I would consider myself lucky to be with you long enough that marriage and children would be a possibility.” You tell him. “We can figure out the general logistics of faith as necessary, but I don’t… I just want to be with you, no matter what.”

“It’s the same for me,” Matt tells you. “I mean, I know we have our little back-and-forth on occasion about faith, but-“ he sighs and looks down at you. “I love you, and that’s all I know right now. I just don’t want to lose you, over anything.”

“Well, I can’t make promises about the big stuff, because you told me not to.” you tell him, and he nods, knowing you mean Daredevil. “But over something like that? Sorry, not happening. You’re kind of stuck with me until further notice.”

“Good.” Matt says with a tone of finality, and you see he’s smiling again.

You slip out of Matt’s arms, though you know you're welcome to stay there and fall asleep that way. You move to go over to your side of the bed, but Matt grabs your hand.

“C-Can you stay, please?” he asks. “I-I want to hold you tonight. Please.”

You don’t argue, settling back into his arms without a thought.

“Night, Matt. I love you.” You tell him, pressing a quick kiss to his chest, where his heart is.

Matt’s whole body seems to relax as he holds you, and as he wishes you good night, you smile. You know you’re lucky to be here, with the man you love like this. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Shiva: a weeklong mourning period in Judaism for relatives (usually first-degree relatives: parents, siblings, children, spouses), usually referred to as "sitting shiva."  
> Kaddish: A hymn of praises to God in Judaism. Kaddish specifically refers to the mourner's kaddish which is used in mourning rituals and funerals in Judaism, which is to show that even in loss, the mourners still praise G-d. You can find more information on wikipedia about specific kaddish customs.  
> Oma and Opa: As mentioned in the last part, German for grandmother and grandfather, respectively.


End file.
